


Head in the clouds but my gravity's centered

by PrefectMoony



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Pre-Epilogue, Soft boys being soft and in love, so like literally all my Pynch FICs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-16 22:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrefectMoony/pseuds/PrefectMoony
Summary: “It’s weird that you’re so good at this,” Adam  tells him, near accusatory. “I mean I get Blue, she teaches it as apart time job, but you? Did you even go ice skating as a kid?”“Niall taught us on the pond by the Barns when it froze over for winter,” Ronan explains with a one armed shrug, sees Blue guiding Gansey inch by inch on the ice while a few ten year olds— the same height as her— whiz past them.“You’re Laura Ingalls! I’m dating Laura Ingalls! What next, you gonna tell me about making snow cones with fresh syrup from the trees outdoors?”Ronan stifles another laugh as he helps Adam up, kisses his knuckles gingerly.“Well now that you remind me….”“Don’t you dare,” Adam snorts.“C’mon loser, I bet we can still beat Dick and maggot on a race.”“I’m pretty sure my ass is permanently bruised,” Adam contends, takes Ronan’s scarf and wraps it around himself, the green truly is a very fetching color on him if Ronan’s being honest.“I can help check that out for you if you’d like?” Ronan goads.“Lead me to some solid ground and get us some  hot chocolate   and then maybe we’ll talk.”ORFive times Adam wears Ronan's clothes.





	Head in the clouds but my gravity's centered

**Author's Note:**

> An anon on Tumblr requested a super cute prompt which I filled right over [here](https://literallylen.tumblr.com/post/188752235443/adam-showing-up-in-winter-with-ronans-clothes) If you wanted to reblog it on there <3
> 
> Title is from the Neighborhood song, Sweater Weather.

“You are absolutely the worst person I know,” Adam, soaked and shivering, grouses as he sheds off his jacket and boots, tossing them to the side in the laundry hamper Gansey had bought Ronan as a housewarming gift once he’d permanently moved into The Barns a few weeks ago.

“Hey you’re not innocent in this Parrish,” Ronan sniffs, snide as all get out while appreciating the view of Adam’s now bare torso. “It takes two to tango.”

Glaring and indignant, Adam just lodges his now discarded shirt at him, which Ronan catches effortlessly.

“Hooligan.”

“Princess.”

Adam tosses him the bird before scurrying upstairs, probably for a warm shower and change of clothes. Ronan wants nothing more than to join him, but is abruptly reminded of their company when Blue, from the next room, yells at him for the apparently appalling fact that he doesn’t have any hot chocolate mix on hand. 

“Yo I make my shit by scratch Maggot! Like a man.”

He steps in to be met by one of Blue’s more terrifying scowls, like she’s trying to physically skewer him with nothing more than her mind.

“Sexist shit bag.”

“Fuck you want?” Ronan sniffs, arms crossed against his chest and dark head tipped imperiously. “Maybe I should say I can cook it like a woman?”

Blue, looking properly cowed and furious that he’s actually bested her for once, just pivots around on her heals and demands for him to get on with it before they’re all frozen to death, Henry and Gansey studiously staying on the sidelines. 

“You’re helping Maggot!” Is all Ronan says in response.

.-

Ronan is pulling out the pre-made sugar cookies from the oven while Gansey is topping off each mug of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows when Adam finally deigns to come back downstairs, looking impossibly welcoming in a pair of comfy sweats that Henry had bought him from some posh retail store as one of the “Oh My Fuck We’re Alive Here Are Some Super Expensive Gifts To Solidify The Friendship And Celebrate,” he had gotten them all, along with a slightly oversized sweater that’s just a bit to short for his arms. It’s an abrasively red color, with a cartoonish Christmas tree on the front. Ronan knows that sweater intimately, it’s the last one his mother had knit him before Niall’s death. 

Ronan had cherished that sweater, refused to ruin it like he was ruining every other part of his life. And now he’s cherishing it for an entirely new reason. For the fact it looks so contrary from Adam’s typical, all too serious disposition. For the fact that Adam felt comfortable enough to pick it out from one of Ronan’s drawers and slip it on. For the fact that it’s something his mother, the brightest star in his world for so long—had made, and now it’s giving some respite to Adam, the boy who he’s been in love with for so long that at this point it’s just a part of him, as simple and true as the blue to Ronan’s eyes or Irish resilience that sang in his blood.

Abruptly, Ronan throws the pan onto the counter, it having begun to burn.

“Oh fuck.”

“You are such a dip-shit for having such an aversion to oven mitts,” Adam scolds with no real heat, clucking his tongue all the while as he puts Ronan’s hand beneath the sink, running cold water over the reddening spot.

“They’re for wimps,” Ronan insists, feels pleased at the sound of Adam’s reluctant laughter and soft, “dumb ass.” that he answers with.

“You look good Parrish,” Ronan can’t help but remark, eyes trailing a path up and down his physique.

“All my shit’s in the wash prick,” Adam snaps back, cheeks flushing prettily. And no, absolutely not. Adam is not about to just take that very sincere compliment and misconstrue it as some fucking barb. 

Just to prove his point, Ronan dips down, and presses a gentle kiss to Adam’s chapped lips.

“What did I just say?” Adam, now completely scarlet, doesn’t respond. “You look good Parrish.”

This time it’s Adam who leans forwards for a kiss, and Ronan who readily returns it.

In hindsight they probably should’ve expected the barrage of marshmallows thrown their way by the others, but Ronan doesn’t care, Opal’ll probably collect them all anyways and add it to her strange hodgepodge of goods she’s begun hoarding in the backyard. If Ronan didn’t know better he’d swear she was preparing to hibernate.

~II~

Henry, being the annoyingly active and suffocatingly spirited student body president he is, had planned that years Snowflake Formal, and somehow— unfathomably— he thunk it perfectly proper for it to take place completely outdoors. 

“It’s the first week of January in fucking Virginia!” Ronan had snarled, crumpling the obscenely pink flyer in his left hand. 

“It’s a carnival theme,” Henry had only tooted. “How do you suppose we fit a carnival in one of Aglionby's gymnasiums?”

“Then change the fucking theme!” Ronan bellowed.

“We’ve already rented the horses and rides, it’s too late to get all prissy about it,” Henry sniffed loftily.

Ronan had never wanted to punch his smarmy face more than at that precise moment.

“Prick.”

“You’re just jealous that I’m so beautiful.”

Ronan spends his afternoon skipping class and creating a very precise dream thing that’ll squirt out green slime the moment Henry opens his locker. 

It was the right thing to do.

And Ronan would’ve never attended this ridiculous school sanctioned event if it hadn’t been for the slight shrug to Adam’s shoulder when Henry had told them all about it later that day— green gunk still dried in his gravity defying hair. But it was sealed when Adam, in a low, almost diffident voice, had divulged that he’s never ben to the carnival or a fare or anything of the sorts. 

Henry, smug as all get out, had only smirked knowingly at Ronan, the “I Win” taunting in his dark eyes.

Ronan inwardly swears to saran rap his stupid car that night before he links his fingers through Adam’s own and says, in as dry of a voice as he can muster, that it’s a year of firsts. 

“I mean I don’t know about you guys but I’ve never been almost killed by a sentient forest I created from my own dreams that was being poisoned from the inside out.”

“Really? That’s a typical Tuesday afternoon for me,” Gansey retorts, blithe as hell. And yeah, they’re all just a little bit fucked up, but honestly? Ronan wouldn’t have it any other way.

.-

“You want me to win you a stuffed elephant?” Ronan asks Adam after excepting the hot apple cider he had purchased them, gloved fingers swiping against one another and making it so Ronan feels his insides go ablaze. 

“Fuck off,” Adam only snorts, elbow checking him before treading down the path, passing all the ridiculous games and downright embarrassing activities, like a god forsaken cake walk, that Blue and Gansey are non ironically participating in. The losers.

“C’mon, for posterity? You can keep it in your dorm and shit.” Ronan very nearly implores.

“Don’t think I’ll ever need something to remind me of you Lynch,” Adam huffs with a small laugh, stopping so to kiss him beneath the twinkling lights and admits the bustling crowds, leaving Ronan simultaneously breathless and charged. “You’re like a heart attack, keeps me on my toes.”

“Would rather you on your knees if I’m being honest,” Ronan says snidely, smirk plastered on his lips as he puts a hand on the small of Adam’s back and pushes him closer. In response, Adam only cuffs him on the crown of his head. 

“Ouch, c’mon I’m fine with being the one on my knees babe.”

This time Adam laughs, a real true Parrish laugh. It’s bright and golden and caught between breaths and sound, and it’s truly an event. Ronan can’t stop smiling stupidly at him, completely besotted as he gazes at the way his impossibly bright eyes crinkle, and his crooked smile is full blown, and how the falling snowflakes from above cascade in his tawny hair, making the ends curl and the tops of his ears go pink with chill.

Without a second thought Ronan pulls off the hat from his own head and plumps it on Adam’s, adjusting it before pecking a kiss to one of his reddening cheeks.

“You’re cold now dumb ass,” Adam toots, looking about ready to just pluck it off and give it back to Ronan.

“Screw your assumptions about me Parrish,” Ronan barks back, thumbs rubbing small circles into Adam’s long neck and protruding collar bone.

“Common fucking sense dickwad,” Adam counters with a glare.

“Then we’ll trade off,” Ronan shrugs, noncommittal. He’s much more interested in how the hat makes it so Adam’s unevenly cropped hair is pressed down and to the left, like he were some fucking CW heartthrob. No not like that though, cause he’s Adam. He’s magical and beautiful and he’s something completely knew. He’s something Ronan would willingly take an eon trying to figure out.

“C’mon,” he says quietly, their foreheads pressed up against one another. “Cheng did one fucking thing right and rented out a Ferris Wheel. Let’s see how far we can get without being yelled at.” 

“I am not letting you give me a blow job in public Lynch,” Adam grouses, but just follows suit when Ronan tugs on his arm, haded towards the line.

“Yo, I was just thinking about a mere handy Parrish, you’re the one with the dirty mind.”

“You’re the worst, I honestly don’t know why I’m still with you,” Adam says, eyes teeming with a sort of warmth Ronan’s only ever seen directed at him. And wow, how thrilling of a feeling that is. The thought that Adam actually has a glance and smile designated for Ronan an Ronan alone.

“”S probably because you want me to give you a blow job on public property a thousand feet from the ground,” he reasons.

“Yeah you’re right, that’s it,” Adam titters, shyly adjusting the hat. 

~III~

Ronan’s not nervous.

He’s not.

He’s not blowing shit out of proportion and he’s not gonna be all neurotic and worrisome like a weird clingy boyfriend. Cabeswater is gone, the danger along with it. It’s a normal February morning, and Adam’s just late, like any other person would be late for school. Only no. That’s not even a sentence that makes sense because this is Adam. Adam who’s top of their class, and leagues ahead of anyone else. Adam who has carefully conceived time tables and measures every moment he has to spare to a painstaking degree. (For fuck’s sake he even has it planned out when they are conducting their more than PG moments.)

This is Adam and he wouldn’t just be late to school for no fucking reason.

Ronan is not thinking of the last time he didn’t show up to school, chides at himself that it’s not the same. Adam would tell him if it’s something as serious as that trial, they’re together now, officially. Adam wouldn’t go at that alone, not again. And Ronan most certainly doesn’t think of how a measly slip of paper didn’t keep Robert away the last time, because just no. Fuck no. That piece of literal shit wouldn’t dare go back.

Ronan isn’t thinking of any of these things until It’s Gansey who rushes towards him after second period and asks, “Have you seen Adam?”

Ronan feels it when his heart contracts.

“Nah Dick, I thought he showed up after Latin?”

A very pale faced Gansey shakes his head in the contrary, and Ronan knows that the same thoughts are flashing through his mind too.

Gansey dashes off to the front office to see if Adam had called in there to excuse his absence while Ronan races to the BMW, starts driving to St Agnes with shaking hands. Though he doesn’t quite make it, is diverted when he sees a tree colored spec in the snow a few streets away from the church, pulls up besides it to find none other than a very frustrated looking Adam Parrish under the hood of the shit box.

“Fucker.” Is the first thing he yells out, slams shut his door before storming over to him.

Adam’s caustic, “Lynch,” is belied by the relief in his eyes and loosening of tension in his clenched jaw and pinched shoulders.

“What the fuck! You’ve been out here all morning?”

“Street wasn’t salted down,” Adam explains moodily, goes back to fiddling around with the gears. “I got slid off into the ditch and when I tried pulling out it just froze up on me.”

“And what? you couldn’t call!” Ronan harrumphs, is abruptly reminded that Adam, still a bit of a frustrating fuck, hasn’t saved up enough for a phone. Absolutely outlawed it as a possible gift Ronan or any of the others would get him for Christmas. 

“Sorry you were worried,” Adam offers. 

“Whatever,” Ronan huffs, catches how Adam’s wearing Ronan’s gloves, which are probably the only reason why his fingers haven’t frozen right off with frost bite. 

“You mad?” Adam asks, totally befuddled.

“I hate worrying about your skinny ass,” Ronan snarls back with no actual anger behind it. “For fucks sake just let me get you some shitty flip phone or whatever, just till you save up for an actual one. And get that look off your face, it’s not pity or what the fuck ever. It’s not even for you! It’s for me and Gansey and the rest of them, cause next time you get stuck in the freezing fucking cold, I’d like it if you didn’t fucking die on us. Okay?”

Adam crosses his arms against his chest, lips pursed and the skin around his eyes tight, calculating and measuring his options. 

“Go to the wheel and try flipping it on, yeah?” He says, and the mere fact it wasn’t an outright refusal is a miracle in Adam standards. So with a jut chin and stiff lip, Ronan just nods and does as asked.

~IV~

“Need a hand?” Ronan asks Adam, sliding up to him on the ice.

“Stop looking at me with that fucking smirk,” Adam says, completely sour after having fallen down for the fifth time in the past hour.

Ronan laughs, totally ebullient.

“It’s weird that you’re so good at this,” Adam tells him, near accusatory. “I mean I get Blue, she teaches it for cash, but you? Did you even go ice skating as a kid?”

“Niall taught us on the pond by the Barns when it froze over for winter,” Ronan explains with a one armed shrug, sees Blue guiding Gansey inch by inch on the ice while a few ten year olds— the same height as her— whiz past them.

“You’re Laura Ingalls! I’m dating Laura Ingalls! What next, you gonna tell me about making snow cones with fresh syrup from the trees outdoors?” 

Ronan stifles another laugh as he helps Adam up, kisses his knuckles gingerly. 

“Well now that you remind me….”

“Don’t you dare.”

“C’mon loser, I bet we can still beat Dick and maggot on a race.”

“I’m pretty sure my ass is permanently bruised,” Adam contends, takes Ronan’s scarf and wraps it around himself, the green truly is a very fetching color on him if Ronan’s being honest.

“I can help check that out for you if you’d like?” Ronan goads.

“Lead me to some solid ground and get us some hot chocolate and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“You run a hard bargain,” Ronan intones, preens when Adam presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But I suppose.”

~V~

Focussing on class is a difficult feat for Ronan on a typical day, but right now it’s downright excruciating. 

It started off as one of those sparing nights where Adam actually slept over at the Barns on a school day, and in the bright morning light Ronan got to wake up to that easy, elastic smile that makes him look so devastatingly beautiful, and Ronan is sure that he loves him, that he’ll always love him. As steady and constant as the drumbeat to his heart.

But then to top it all off, Adam had strolled out of the Barns wearing Ronan’s leather jacket, and Jesus fucking Christ does he look like a James Dean day dream. Ronan was dizzy with want once first catching sight of him, but now it’s a simmering heat that Adam, smiling like that cat that’s gotten into the cream— is only prodding at with a knowing leer.

The fuck.

Adam’s sitting right in front of him, smoothly and efficiently taking the notes that their newest— probably not homicidal— Latin teacher is droning on about. His eyes squinted and shoulders moving just right beneath the jacket. 

It’s like a chorus of angels are singing when the bell ending first period rings and the throng of maroon jackets and superiority complexes are swarming the hall. 

Ronan, with a determined glint in his gaze, just grabs Adam’s hand, dodging Henry and Gansey while slinking through the crowds. 

Mercifully, he finds an abandoned storage closet to duck into, slamming his lips into Adam’s own once shutting the door and wraps his hands around his narrow waste.

“Someone’s eager,” Adam notes, squawking when Ronan moves down to biting the hinge of his neck and jaw.

“You’re a prick.”

“Love you too sweetheart,” Adam says, mouth dipped down into a fond smile and is more than excited to let Ronan slink off his jacket and cants their hips against one another.

~+I~

“Dad all these sweaters were yours?” Livvy asks, wide eyed while rummaging through the boxes Ronan had brought down from the upstairs. 

“Grandma Lynch had a hobby,” Ronan snorts, smiling dotingly down at her and Gage, who’s wearing one of Declan’s old hats, still too large on him.

“Can you teach us how to knit?” Gage asks, hopeful.

“If you start eating your greens, maybe,” Ronan tells him, watches endearingly as Adam strolls into the living room of their now turned country house, baby Maeve cradled into his arms, swathed into one of Ronan’s childhood blankets.

Ronan had never thunk it possible for his heart to feel so full.

**Author's Note:**

> It would mean the galaxy and stars to me if a kind soul would leave a comment maybe letting me know wha they thought?  
You can also send me a prompt seeing that this is part of my Ficsgiving month long celebration where I'll be posting a FIC a day this entire month on Tumblr <3
> 
> I really hope to hear from you soon!  
Come scream at me on [Tumblr](http://LiterallyLen.tumblr.com)  
With love  
~Len


End file.
